


this is why we can't have nice things

by soulffles



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, also the word 'idiot' is jounced around a lot, enjoy his bristly pain, this basically turned into black hat's horny diary entry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 08:01:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulffles/pseuds/soulffles
Summary: Sometimes Black Hat does succumb to Demencia's sultry idiocy, but only in privacy.
Relationships: Black Hat & Demencia (Villainous), Black Hat/Demencia (Villainous), Lizardhat
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	this is why we can't have nice things

Black hat is very good at convincing himself that Demencia's thighs wrapped around his head doesn't sound like a stellar Saturday night activity. In honest to Hell truth, he’s _so_ good at it that he’ll completely deny the actual fact that he’s currently crouched in his office chair going to town on what seems like the most prominent, pathetic mega boner he’s ever had the misfortune of possessing.

Idiot Demencia. With her idiot bouncing boobs and her idiot, brilliantly sculpted ass. What an idiot.

As he sits there and shamefully beats one off, he thinks about what she’s doing, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. Maybe running full throttle at a wall to see how many collisions it takes to knock her unconscious. Yes, of course. And when she wakes up, she’ll probably forget about all her tallies and start all over again. Yep, that sure is Demencia. And yep, her pure unbridled idiocy sure does get him going.

More than ever, he just wants to burst open her bedroom door— blazing saddles and all— and take her up against the wall (right next to that ripped _Nightmare on Elm Street_ poster she has) until she can’t feel her legs. Until she doesn’t have any legs. He’ll even hoist one over his shoulder if he has to. Anything for a good fuck. Anything to feel her sweaty, wriggling body pressed against his. Anything to yank her head back and mark up her neck with the tips of his teeth. Anything to slide his hand down her skirt, work his fingers into her tight, slick cunt and clench her muscular hips. Anything to—

His dick twitches, and he hitches back to ride out his orgasm to the rhythm of his hand. The other has the corner of his desk in a death grip, nails leaving splinters in the nice wood. Idiot lizard. She’s gone and made him ruin his desk. Now he’ll have to get a new one. This time with even nicer wood. That’ll show her.

He has never been more disgusted with himself, and he prides himself on being a grody, heinous individual. A slime ball. An actual degenerate. Now he’s just a stupid butter knife with a boneless dick.

Even In all his masturbating stupor, Black Hat never stops to consider the hole Demencia kicked in his office door the other day and how obnoxiously obvious it was. A draft comes through tenfold for christ’s sake. At this point, the whole manor and every one of its ghosts know the big boss man’s jerking it to the curve of Demencia’s lips, the way her biceps flex when she guts a hero, the way she hoots and hollers when the blood rushes to the floor like a beautiful, stomach-churning waterfall…

Black Hat looks down at his lap with complete and outright disgrace. Way to go, she’s on a roll today. Went and wrecked his perfectly pressed trousers.

He snaps his fingers and suddenly he’s wearing a fresh, new pair.

Idiot.


End file.
